Silver Lions
by StoryGirl02
Summary: She made no movement to stop him, didn’t call out, nothing. Just let him go, let him fly away like the sand slipping through her fingers. They didn’t, after all had been pondered over and thought constantly about, deserve a happy ending.
1. Children

**Children.**

Pansy opened the door, her long, dark curly mass of hair falling in a flop over her face. She darted around the cramped flat with her eyes, dropping her small pink handbag on the wooden floor before walking into the kitchen.

She messily arranged her dripping wet hair into a ponytail, shedding her warm purple overcoat and draping it over a chair. The rain pelted the windows and with a shudder she pulled out her wand and quickly pulled all the curtains together. There, that was better.

"Ron?" she called out, walking out into the hallway, quickly pulling her boots off and placing them near the bathroom. She smiled, revealing a set of perfect white teeth, behind a pair of red, plump lips, carefully outlined with lip-liner. Socks covering her feet, red with white hearts, she walked slowly along the floorboards, the small bruise on her ankle a reminder what had happened the last time it had rained. Wet floors and socks didn't go together, she learnt.

"What?" called her husband, his voice hoarse from the remains of the flu he had caught four days ago still lingering around in his lungs.

She took a step towards their bedroom, manicured fingers tapping the cream wall, narrowly missing the edge of the painting. Pansy opened the door, her brown eyes twinkling softly in the darkness.

Her husband was spread out onto of their white sheets, red hair contrasting brightly with the colour. She walked over to the window and pulled its thick, green curtain closed, before settling down next to Ron.

Placing her head on his strong chest, Ron's muscly arms enveloped her immediately. A sigh escaped her mouth, as she listened to his heartbeat thump inside his chest, and the way he made little noises whenever she shifted around.

"What's up?" he asked, blue eyes filled with concern as he glanced down at her rain-soaked form, water dripping from her clothes.

Pansy shook her head, ponytail swishing. "Nothing," she answered, sighing. Shifting on the bed, she turned her head so she could watch the television as well, and try and clue together what was happening in East-Enders.

Ron shook his head, a hand reaching for the remote and switching the blaring television off. He sat up, dragging her along with him. "I know that face," he said, glancing into her eyes. "Something's happened. What, Pans?"

Pansy sniffled, dark eyes blinking to hold back the tears. "I went to see Doctor Edwards today," she explained, grabbing a soft red pillow and holding it close to her shaking chest.

They had been trying for a baby for ages now, Pansy recalled, ever since Ginny had announced that she was pregnant. Ron hadn't wanted to be outshone by his younger sister, so they had gone home and planned. Neither of them had thought that trying would be this hard.

It had been five years, and nothing. No life, not even a false start.

Ron gathered her into his arms. "And?" he prodded, Pansy nestling her head into the crook of his neck, her wet hair dripping water down onto his shirt.

Tears fell down her pale cheeks, black mascara blemishing her soft pale cheeks. "Nothing." she said, sobbing, "Nothing."

Ron smiled sadly, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "It is okay, Pans. It really doesn't matter."

She shook her head, pulling his arms off her. Pansy stood up off of the bed, tugging her shirt down "It does matter Ron," she argued, pacing around the bed. "You want children and I can't provide them. You'd be a great father, but I'm un-fertile." She gave a sad laugh. "Must be my punishment for all the bad deeds I've done huh?"

Ron shook his head, standing up and gathering her sobbing body into his arms. "Oh, Pansy," he whispered into her ear, "Whether you can have kids or not doesn't matter to me anymore. I just want you, Slytherin, pure-blood, beautiful and happy. You are everything to me, and everything I need to make me life complete."

Pansy sobbed, pressing her head into the crook of his neck. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, wetting the collar of his pressed white shirt. She pulled back, wiping at the smudges with her hand. "Sorry," Pansy muttered, wiping her eyes.

Ron looked down and saw the black marks she had left. He laughed, making her smile, although still tearfully. "It's okay."

He caressed her cheeks, wiping her tears away with a calloused finger. "I love you Pansy."

She smiled softly up at him. _Ron. _There was no doubt in her mind that this man was her soul mate. Why hadn't she seen it earlier_? _"I love you too, Mr. Weasley."

The rain pelted the window outside, thunder crashing once and a while. Ron looked at her. "How about we stay in tonight Pans?" he asked. "We'll have some of those leftovers Mum left last time she was over. You can have a bath, I run you one now." He smiled at her, their hands entwining in her lap.

Pansy sighed. "What ever did I do to deserve you?" she asked, placing a soft kiss on his cheek and entwining one of her small hands into his soft red hair.

"I dunno." Ron answered, shrugging. "Must have been all those good deeds," he teased, poking out his tongue.

She stuck her out as well, laughing, before taking his hand once more and padding into the kitchen.

As she banged around with the pots and took out the meatloaf that had been left for them, Ron watched her. _His Pansy._ He didn't care what anyone said, she was the most beautiful and intelligent woman he had ever met. It didn't matter if she could have children or not, not to him anyway. Kids were just a bonus, and Pansy was the full package already.

Pansy took a seat next to him, bringing him out of his thoughts. She smiled softly at him. "I'm going to go change. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

She took off down the hallway, sock-encased feet bouncing softly on the polished wood.

Pansy quickly stripped off her red sweater and jeans. She walked over to the dresser, rummaging through the top drawer until she found a pair of grey sweatpants and a red t-shirt that had once belonged to Ron. She dried her hair with her wand, watching at it fell in warm curls down her back, before going into the bathroom.

Stopping short, she leaned against the doorway, dark eyes welling up with tears. Blinking them back, she took in the open pregnancy test resting on the edge of the cabinet, instructions folded out, just as she had left it this morning. She shook her head softly, hands clutching the top to her needily. What did she do to deserve this?

She quickly wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, dark eyes shining with defiance. If Merlin was going to flaunt her un-fertility at her, she would stand up and take it like a Parkinson. She would not back away, like a coward would, wouldn't start crying every time she saw a pregnant woman in the street, or a newborn baby cooing softly in its mother's arms.

Pansy picked up the packet and softly held it in her open hands. Another set of instructions fell out and softly fluttered to the floor. She sighed, pulling out the test, and placing it in her lap. It couldn't hurt to try, could it? After all nothing was going to come of it. She was sure of that.

Pansy sat down on the edge of the toilet, test in her hands. The soft click of the clock in the hallway filled her ears. Tears fell down her cheeks once more and she opened the lid and filled her mind with patience, and courage, to wait for the answer she already knew.

Minutes passed, minutes where all she could hear was the insults and comments, the sneers; all the women laughing at her as she watched her life pass by with no achievements or results, no children, no heirs.

"_Poor dear, unfertile, did you hear? Not that she didn't deserve it!"_

"_Not worthy to be married to that boy. How upset he must be!"_

"_It's her fault, not fighting in that war. She brought it on herself." _

Pansy shook her head harshly, blinking back tears, her curls falling into her face. The clock ticked. Tears fell. Hands clutched the top to her chest. And then, finally, it was time.

Tears falling, she stood up and pulled her sweat-pants up. She turned to the test; the small white object seemed to glittering in the harsh light. A shaking hand reached out for it, pulling it towards her. Shivering from the breeze, she turned it over.

_Positive. _

She grinned with joy for few seconds, happy, until her face fell and common sense took over. Surely it wasn't real. Surely it was a joke test, charmed to be positive no matter the witch, left by Fred or George to cheer her up after her latest doctor's visit. She checked the package._ Home Pregnancy Test._ It was real!

Flinging open the cabinet, she rummaged through it in search of another pregnancy test. Pansy threw the instructions on the floor, before closing her eyes, willing this one to turn out to be positive as well.

After a few minutes listening to Ron's cheerful humming that floated down the hall into the bathroom, she turned it over, blinking as she awaited the answer. Two lines appeared on the strip, and she flipped open the instructions, eyes scanning the page. Two lines, two lines meant….. _Positive!_

She held the test to her chest as she stood up, dark eyes shining with happiness. Everyone would be so happy for her. Mrs. Weasley would be ecstatic, Ginny would cry, as a result of her newest pregnancy and her now high-strung hormones, Draco would crush her to him and arrange a party, Ron... _Ron………_

Pansy ran out of the bathroom and into the hall, narrowly avoiding her boots. She clutched the test in her shaking hands. Doctor Edwards had been wrong. It hadn't been her fault, nor her many sins. Everyone had been wrong. She would be a mother; she would have a child, at last. Her only desire in the world had finally happened.

She skidded into the kitchen, meeting the blue eyes of Ron who was stirring the pot sitting on the stove slowly; his humming paused as he glanced at her, a beam lighting up her face. He took a glance at the test in her grasp, mouth silently mouthing the words he couldn't speak.

Pansy Parkinson would be the best mother her child could possibly have. And Ron would be a great father. She just knew it in her heart.

Silently, slowly, Pansy Mirabelle Weasley walked up to her husband, placed a small pale hand on his right forearm and calmly announced that she was pregnant.

And then he swung her around the kitchen, laughing with joy.

**AN****: In case you're wondering,**** Mirabelle****means "o****f wondrous beauty****". I thought it suited Pansy.**

**Review!**


	2. Parents

_**Parents.**_

**_StoryGirl._**

* * *

Pansy nervously wringed her hands together, brown eyes locked onto the wooden door in front of them, chips in various place, the windows behind it spotless without one trace of grime. She sighed, glancing around the yard, noting with a smile the hens running around madly, and the gnomes slowly making their way over the hedges, plotting their revenge. Biting her lip, she took a glance at Ron, who seemed as calm as ever.

He smiled at her, pulling her hands apart and placing them by her sides, where they swung happily. "Calm down Pans. You're just meeting my family. You're not facing Voldemort."

She sighed softly, dark hair unravelling from the elegant twist she had hurried to put it up into. "I know," she began, smiling as he took her hand and began rubbing over the fingers with his thumb, "But what if they hate me?"

Ron laughed, knocking on the door once more. "Why would they?" he questioned her, loocking his eyes onto hers. "You're beautiful, smart, funny and completely in love with me."

She sighed again. "You forgot pure-blooded, Slytherin and evil, Ron."

He shook his head. "I've told you my parents don't care about that," Ron said.

"I know," Pansy told him, taking a deep breath and smoothing down her dark purple robes. She smiled at him. "But that doesn't make it any easier. Anyways, I'm ready."

Ron grinned, pushing back a strand of red hair behind his ear. "Good," he replied, knocking on the door, and placing his right hand on Pansy's small shoulder. "Just breathe. They'll love you."

The door opened and Molly Weasley appeared, looking ever slightly so frazzled. She took one look at her son, sighed happily and gathered his tall and lanky frame into a hug.

Releasing him, so he stood quite a few heads above her, she turned to Pansy. "And who is this Ron? Are you going to be so rude to your mother and not introuduce this charming young lady?" She asked, smoothing down her frizzy red hair, trying to look as though she hadn't spent all day inside a hot kitchen, working with an oven. Wiping her hands on her floral apron, she smiled at Pansy, revealing just where Ron had received his adorable grin from.

Ron cleared his throat, smiling at Pansy, who returned it, though nervously. "Mum," he began, "I'd like to introduce to you my girlfriend. Pansy Parkinson."

Mrs. Weasley smiled at Pansy, "Hullo dear," She said, "I can't believe Ron's not mentioned you before. Would you like to come in?"

Pansy smiled. "Hello Mrs. Weasley," She replied, reaching out a small pale hand, expecting her to do the same. Mrs. Weasley battered it away, laughing, before gathering Pansy into a hug. "I see you've managed to tame Ron," She whispered into Pansy's ear, lips narrowly avoiding the red earrings that hung from them.

Pansy laughed softly, watching Ron walk into the kitchen over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, leaving her completely alone in a strange house.

"It wasn't that hard," She told her, smoothing down her robes, "all it took was a single kiss and he was hooked."

Mrs. Weasley laughed, beckoning Pansy with a finger, Pansy's eyes noting the single diamond ring that glittered on her left hand. "Let's go into the kitchen dear."

Walking into the kitchen, Pansy was assaulted with the cooking smells that she had not smelt since she had ventured into the kitchen at her Manor, where the House-elves were slaving away, at age six. Se had not returned, as per the wishes of her Mother. Mrs. Weasley walked over to the stove, and began stirring the pots. "I don't know where Ron is dear. Perhaps you should go and find him? There is little else to do in here, and I'm sure Ginny herself is out there."

Pansy nodded softly, dark eyes searching out for the door. She walked over to it, narrowly avoiding a chair that had been pulled back into the walkway, and opened it, revealing the bright garden, various plots of flowers scattered here and there.

Walking out, her robes held up to avoid the mud, Pansy asked herself why she had been so stupid. Her fears had been silly really. Mrs. Weasley didn't hate her. Why had she ever thought different? If Ron was sincere enough in their relationship to introduce her to his family, surely his family couldn't hate her.

"Pans!" Before she knew it, Ginny had jumped onto her, freckled and tanned arms winded tightly around her pale neck. Beaming, the young girl wore shorts, probably of a Muggle nature and a green t-shirt that made Pansy shed her heavy robes instantly after Ginny had released her.

"Hello," Pansy managed to say, rubbing her neck, now dressed in a purple skirt and a blue singlet top. Ginny pulled back, the smile still lighting up her face.

"Ron didn't tell us you were coming!" She turned, peering off into the distance. "Oi! Ron!"

"What?" Ron's voice called back, though softly.

"Come here," Ginny shouted, before turning away from the bright sun.

Ron appeared behind a willow tree, Harry following. She took him in. They had been dating for a few months now, every day the romance getting better and better. She had never truly realized how spontaneous and romantic this man could actually be. Pansy was glad she had taken a chance on him, and he had proved himself worthy of that chance time after time.

Ron and Harry reached them, both sweaty with both their faces covered in oil. Pansy fished around in her pockets for a handkerchief. Finding one, she handed it to Ron.

"Thanks," he muttered, before wiping his freckled face with it. After using it, he offered it to Harry, who looked after the once-pure white handkerchief with slight disgust.

"No thanks," he said, looking at it. "I think I'd be better off with a 'Scourify'."

Pansy smiled at Ron, dark eyes twinkling. Happily, she reached out and took his hand, before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Your Mum is really nice," she told him, "I can hardly wait to meet your Dad."

Ginny snorted. "Trust me, he isn't worth the wait." Harry laughed, pecking Ginny on the lips softly. Ron shuddered, making Pansy break out into laughter.

"No matter how many times they do that, it still makes me feel weird," He said, whispering in Pansy's ear.

Ginny broke away from Harry, her already-red cheeks now flushed. "And you think that seeing you and Pansy kiss, doesn't make me feel weird?" she asked. "She's like a sister to me!"

Ron shrugged, running his thumb over Pansy's fingers. "So?" He questioned his sister, who now had her hands on her hips, Harry stood off to the side, a look of concern on his face. "Harry's my best mate. And you're my sister."

"And you're my brother." She shot back.

The wind blew around them for a moment, filing all their ears with its howling. Pansy looked up, noting how quickly the storm had seemed to fill the sky, the sun now disappearing behind a thick layer of grey cloud.

"Time to go in," muttered Harry, and he took Ginny by the arm, leading her back into the Burrow. She whinged, seemingly wanting to continue the argument with her brother, before sighing, and walking of her own will.

Ron smiled down at Pansy, offering his right forearm to her. "Ready to go in?" She smiled at him, taking his arm with her pale hand and letting him lead her into his childhood home.

* * *

Arthur Weasley was really something, she concluded, dipping her spoon back into the soup again. She took a look at the man, Ron's father. The reports had been true; he was a Muggle-lover. And, surprisingly, this didn't bother her in the slightest.

She dipped her bread into the soup, twirling a dark lock of curly hair around her finger. Ron placed his hand on her thigh and delivered a kiss on her temple, smiling softly against her skin. She smiled. Pansy loved this man.

Arthur waved his hands around wildly, narrowing avoiding his wife's head. Molly glanced up, glaring at her husband, before returning to her meal. "Jenkins was saying today to me that if the Muggles continue to develop like this, they could have robots in every house by 2030! Isn't that amazing?" He looked around, catching Pansy's eye, all of his children nearly face-down in their soup, muttering unheard things.

Pansy swallowed, as she had been taught, before beaming at him. "Yes, it really is amazing Mr. Weasley," She said, taking another sip of her water.

He smiled. "Please, call me Arthur."

She smiled back at him, parting her red lips in happiness. This was not at all what she had been expecting. Her mother and father's comments had been that the Weasley's were almost like the Muggles themselves, with un-civilised meals and a brood of children, all nine of them living in a shabby, run-down house that tipped over more every time another child was born.

That wasn't true. Of course, the house might have been a little shabby, but every where you looked there was evidence of wizards. Moving photographs of the fireplace mantle, a spoon stirring itself on the stove, two gnomes podding their way across the garden, twirling their beards with their fingers. In fact, Pansy was ashamed to admit that she would have enjoyed her childhood more here, than at her Manor, where she just had to say the word and the thing she wanted was bought for her.

Molly Weasley seemed like a loving mother, the kind Pansy had wanted during her childhood. Her own mother had done nothing but suggest to her father that Pansy should be married off to Draco Malfoy, an arrangement that Pansy had hated to her core. Of course, Draco had felt the same way, but her mother still whinged to this day about how the agreement had not gone according to her plan.

Ron cleared his throat, tapping his glass with his knife, something she had see the Muggles do in one of the many movies she had been forced to watch by Hermione. He stood up, smoothing down his blue shirt. Pansy looked at him, her small hand grasping his large, calloused one.

Everyone's eyes on the table shot up and were instantly on him, blue, brown and green.

"I'd just like to say," Ron began, "a big thanks to Mum for this terrific lunch." He clapped his hands together. Mrs. Weasley blushed, waving her hands around as if it was nothing. She dabbed at her eyes with the collar of her shirt, before gesturing to her son to continue.

Ron bent down. Pansy looked at him, dark eyes wide. What was he planning to do, she asked herself silently, watching as he cleared his throat once more, looking up at her with complete adoration and love shining in his eyes

"And now, I'd like to say," He started, fishing in his pocket for something, "that this woman in front of me is smart, beautiful, funny and has me completely fallen head over heels in love with her. Pansy Mirabelle Parkinson, will you marry me?" He opened the small sapphire box, revealing a small twinkling diamond set in the centre of two small sapphires.

Pansy gasped, placing a small hand over her mouth. "Ron," she breathed, shaking her head in disbelief. She jumped up. "Yes, yes! Of course I'll marry you!"

Ron stood up smiling, before slipping the ring on her finger. She burst into tears, unable to keep them in for any longer.

"I'm sorry," He whispered in her ear as he gathered her into a hug, Mrs. Weasley clapping, "that it's so plain. I couldn't afford-"

She cut him off with a kiss. "I love it," Pansy assured him, tears falling from her eyes and onto his shirt.

And that was the truth.

It was after, walking home with her hand entwined with his, white snow falling on the ground beneath them, that she realized that she loved every part of this man, including his parents. Sure, they were strange and shabby, but they brought new meaning to the word family.

And they were what she based raising her own children on.

**

* * *

**

**Friends Quote:**

**AN: Plugging: ****The Perks Of Getting Knocked Up ****by ****Noc007.**

**Joey:** Aw, c'mon, this guy's perfect for you.  
**Monica:** No, not after your cousin who could belch the alphabet.


	3. Friends

****

Friends.

**StoryGirl.**

* * *

Pansy sighed, cradling the cup in her gloved hands, enjoying the warmth that spread through her body at this simple movement. She pulled her purple coat tighter to her body, shivering as the harsh winter wind blew in through the crack in the café door. Ginny shot a look of concern at her but she shrugged it off, raising the mug to her red lips and blowing on the hot liquid.

The waitress chattered to a handsome, black-haired man at the register, smiling as he asked her about the specials. She raised one hand to the man's face, red nail polish reflecting off the gold earring in his ear. Pansy stifled a snort. Honestly!

Annabelle, the muggle waitress was known for being a ditzy blonde and very much so desperate. She nudged Ginny, pointing at Annabelle and the flirter. Ginny let out a soft giggle, before clapping a pale hand over her mouth, her pale face turning red. Pansy smiled cheekily at her friend, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Pans!" Ginny hissed at her, scowling, "Why'd you do that? Annabelle had a hot green top I wanted to borrow for tomorrow! Now I'll never get it!"

Pansy shook her beanie covered head, "I swear, sometimes you forget that we're witches Gin. You've seen this top?"

Ginny nodded, "Yeah, Annabelle wore it last week when we came to the café."

This made Pansy let out a frustrated sigh, and rub her face with her hand. "Then copy it with your wand!"

Ginny covered her mouth with her hand, laughing. "I'm such an idiot!" she exclaimed between deep gulps of air.

Pansy giggled, dark eyes shining brightly. She bit into a croissant on the platter in front of her, enjoying it as the warm pastry released the hidden flavour behind it.

Ginny copied her, sipping her tea between mouthfuls of thick pastry. "So," she began, brown eyes twinkling mischievously, "how have you been?"

Pansy frowned slightly, "So, what you mean is, have I found a new man yet?"

Ginny smiled. "Got it in one Pans!" she exclaimed, setting her cup back down onto its matching saucer.

There was a rustle as Pansy shed herself of her scarf and beanie. She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Ever since Stefan dumped me," she confessed to her friend, "I've had some trouble finding a new man."

"Trouble?" asked Ginny. "Why? You're smart, and beautiful. No man could resist you!"

Pansy laughed, "Thank you for the confidence booster Gin," she said, "but I don't feel smart or pretty at the moment. I'm just probably going through a dry spell, that's all." She shrugged her small shoulders. "It'll pass," Pansy assured her wide-eyed friend, ignoring the gape that Ginny was now supporting.

Ginny shook her head, sending red locks flying through the air. "You've taken your break-up with that loser to heart, Pans," she said. "It's not your fault that he was cheating on you. And it's definitely not your fault you miscarried."

Tears welled up in Pansy's eyes, but she blinked them back, reaching out to grasp Ginny's hand within her own. "Thanks," she whispered softly, the silence of the café that she usually loved now becoming too daunting for her.

Ginny smiled at her. "It's fine," she assured, soothing down Pansy's curly hair, brown eyes looking over her friend concernedly, trying to note other things that seemed wrong with her; things that she might have missed.

Pansy wiped her eyes, sniffling. "I must look like an idiot, huh?" she said, patting down her hair. She giggled, wrapping her scarf around her neck once more.

Taking her cue, Ginny pulled her coat around her, slipping her handbag over one shoulder. "How about we go now?" she suggested, helping her friend up out of the chair. Pansy turned to her friend, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"Thanks," Pansy whispered as Ginny took out some Muggle money from her purse and placed it on the table, an assortment of shiny coins and paper bills.

Ginny slipped an arm around Pansy's shoulders. "No problem."

They walked out of the door and onto the crowded streets of London.

--

"Here we go," Ginny chirped as she stopped outside of Pansy's brick flat. The redhead detached her friend's arm from her own.

"Thanks," Pansy said, slipping her beanie off and placing it in her pocket. "For everything."

Ginny smiled, "Not a problem," she assured Pansy, hugging her arms around her body tighter as the breeze rushed through the trees that surrounded the flat.

"Hey!" Ginny exclaimed, an idea popping up in her mind. "Here's a crazy thought: how about you come along with Harry and me when we go clubbing tomorrow?"

Pansy shook her head softly, "No thanks." She murmured. "I don't want to intrude on your private time with Harry."

Ginny laughed, "Oh, but you won't," she assured, "Because Ron the stupid git is coming to make sure Harry and I stay safe, or so he puts it." She shrugged her small shoulders. "So you won't be a third wheel or anything, if that's what you were thinking!"

Pansy sighed. "Are you sure?"

"Have I ever been?" Ginny shot back at her, grinning.

Pansy smiled half-heartedly. "Fine." she said, "I'll come along then."

Ginny latched herself onto Pansy's arm with a happy shout, hugging her friend tightly. "Good!" she said. "We'll be able to find you a new man then!"

"Can you let go of me now?" Pansy asked, prising her friend off her. Ginny pecked Pansy's cheek softly before bounding down the stairs happily, red hair floating behind her in the wind.

"Bye!' She yelled, raising her slender hand in a wave. Pansy waved back, smiling slightly. Ginny bounded off down the street, turning in a ballerina twirl before she apparated away with a crack.

Pansy opened her door with a slight sigh. It would be too bad, she assured herself, going out with Ginny and Harry. She stepped into her flat, dropping her scarf onto her dresser, her keys landing on it as well.

She took a look in her mirror, surprised to see that her appearance wasn't too bad after her breakdown before. Pansy shook her head softly. She really needed to get over Stefan, that ungrateful bastard. Ginny had been right; it wasn't her fault she had lost the baby. Perhaps if he hadn't been sleeping with another woman when she had walked into their bedroom, she wouldn't have become emotional and miscarried.

She uncapped a bottle of orange juice in the kitchen, pouring it into a glass before taking a long sip of it, dark hair falling into her eyes. She rubbed them tiredly, shooting a look at the clock onto of the fridge. Four. Too early to go to bed, she decided, pulling back the curtains, enjoying in the sunshine that instantly bathed the room.

Taking off her boots in the hallway, dropping her coat over them, Pansy grabbed an elastic from the bathroom; pulling her hair up into a bun before she dropped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling.

Her fingers rubbed the spot where her engagement ring used to rest, before she sighed and pulled them harshly away from the spot. That was her old life, with Stefan and the baby. This was her new one. She didn't quite know what it contained, but she was pretty sure it would start when she went out with Ginny tomorrow night.

It couldn't be too bad, she repeated to herself again as she stared up at the ceiling, sock-clad feet rubbing against each other. After all Ron would be there and he'd share in her misery._ Right?_

* * *

**AN: ****Friends Quote:**

**Phoebe:** Chandler still thinks I'm pregnant and he hasn't asked me how I'm feeling or offered to carry my bags. I feel bad for the woman who ends up with him.


	4. Drunk

**Drunk.**

* * *

Pansy felt a shred of fear creep slowly into her stomach as she nervously stepped into the club, a curly lock of her hair wrapped tightly around a pale finger in a show of nerves. She hitched her black handbag higher up on her shoulder, flashing a small and nervous smile at the waiter that she passed. He returned the smile, before moving on, delivering drinks here and there.

Dark eyes searched the crowed club for a head of red hair, before coming up with nothing. Pansy sighed. Where was he? A pale hand reached down to smooth her black skirt out, as she quickly sat down in the nearest chair, plonking down before anyone asked her to move. She crossed her legs, nervously playing with her hands, plucking strands of black material from her stockings, letting them drift slowly to the floor.

She shouldn't have come. She wasn't ready, not for this. It wasn't right, to go out so soon, to risk the chance of seeing him, with her. It was too soon. She needed time. _Goddamn Ginny! _Why had she allowed herself to have been roped into this, when Ginny wasn't even obviously here?

She rubbed a hand on her forehead as she let out a weary sigh, her lips parted to let her expaspartion out. . Her handbag slid off her shoulder and fell on the carpeted floor with a soft thud, but she hardly notice. Her eyes skimmed the room once more, searching for a redhead.

Pansy raised her eyes up slowly to see the large, dark doorman arguing with a petite woman, the brunette stomping her feet, sweaty strands of hair falling over her eyes. There was a crash and she was gone, disappearing around the corner, travelling as fast as her heels could allow her too. She shook her head at the display, and scanned the club again for Ginny. _Where was she?_

Her red lips parted for another sigh as she gathered her handbag off the floor. _Damn Stefan and his stupid words_! Why did they still hurt her, when it had been months? Why did she still allow herself to be fooled by them, to let herself believe them?_ Damn Ginny for making her come and not showing up. Damn the world_.

She stood up from the chair in a defiant motion, dark eyes flashing with anger. _Why had she come? _It wasn't worth it. Pansy grabbed a shot of alcohol from a passing tray, ignoring the outraged shock from the blond woman at the next table. The alcohol burned down her throat, leaving a trail of fire coursing down her mouth. Her heart pulsed angrily, heatedly, as if it wanted to escape her chest. She shook her head quickly, eyes watering.

_Ow!_ Her knee had collided with the table. Pansy sat down and hitched her skirt up, before beginning to rub warm circles over the bruise.

A chuckle came from above, the noise drowning out the once-again blonde woman's outraged gasp at her indecency. She blushed, letting her skirt fall back down into place. Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes slightly, before looking up.

"How are you, Pansy?" Ron asked, holding up two thick fingers in front of her face, waving them back and forth, "Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?" He knelt down in front of her, smiling slightly.

"I'm not that drunk, Weasley!" she snapped, pulling her cardigan tighter around her chest. She stared at him; eyes paused from their blinking, a smirk playing on her lips defiantly. "Two."

"Two, what?" Ron asked, blue eyes twinkling merrily, seemingly ever bluer in the bright lights of the clubs.

She snorted. "Oh, ha-ha. Very funny. Where's Ginny?"

He shook his head, "She couldn't come," he told her, "said something about Harry, but hey," he shrugged carelessly, "I didn't follow it. She told me to come and get you. Said something about a 'Stefan.' " Ron's eyes looked at her curiously. "Who's that?"

It seemed like all her courage had drained away with those two words. Pansy groaned slightly, standing up on shaky legs, wobbling in her heels. She grabbed Ron's arm for support, nails digging into his forearm, leaving half-moons in the blue, silky fabric as a result.

"You alright?" he asked, making her look up into his blue eyes. She felt herself nod her head up and down. She wasn't that drunk, was she? It had only been one shot. It couldn't possibly have that much effect on her.

"Do you want to go?" he asked, helping her take a still-shaky step towards the door.

Pansy shook her head, "No, not yet. Can we stay?" she asked, her eyelids fluttering closed. She felt her hand cover a yawn.

He laughed, before leading her back to the table. "I guess," he finally said, turning a chair around and sitting down, facing her as she slumped forwards, hair scattered across her face.

She smiled, "Thanks," she said, grabbing two shots as the tray went by again. Ignoring the woman's gasp once more, she offered one to Ron. He took it, a smile playing on his lips.

"Cheers." He tipped the glass to his lips, letting the liquid slide down his throat. Pansy watched him, eyes widening as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed. She shook her head. There was no way in hell she was going to start classifying Ron Weasley as cute.

"Pans?" She whipped her head around, covering her face with her head, blushing furiously. _Oh God!_

"Yeah?" she asked, cringing as her voice reached her ears. _How horrid did she_ _sound?_

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She looked at him in shock. "Talk about what?"

He grinned at her, "Stefan. Gin said that you might talk about it to me."

Anger boiled up inside of her. _How dare she? _Ginny had no right to ask Ron to ask her to talk about it- Stefan was her personal business.

Pansy shook her head. "No, not really. I don't really want to talk about it, not right now," she told him, standing up out of the chair, "I think I'll go to the bathroom."

He looked at her, concern written all over his features, eyes wide. "Oh, okay." He watched her go, before shaking his head, placing it tiredly in his hands, closing his eyes.

Pansy stormed off towards the ladies room, tears welling up in her eyes. She slammed the cubicle doors shut, before sitting down on the toilet lid and banging her boots on the tiled floor. She let out a small scream, wiping her tears away.

She took off her hoop earrings, chucking them angrily on the floor. _Stupid Stefan_. She searched her purse for a mirror he had bought her, and after finding it, she threw it at the door, shattering it into pieces. She had to rid him from her life. He had no point in still remaining in it.

She lowered her face into her trembling hands, sobbing. A boot kicked the door, resulting in a loud bang. She sobbed harder, tears rolling freely down her face.

­She let out a small laugh. Stefan. He was probably living it up with Misty, laughing as they both talked about the misery they had caused on her life_. That prick!_

Pansy wiped her hot tears away, feeling her mascara smudge messily over her cheeks, in black lines.

A feeling of dread over took her, and she fell to the floor, face contorted in realization.

_Maybe it was fate, Ginny not being able to come? Maybe she had meant to drink? Maybe she was supposed to be with Ron?_ She shook her head slightly, a small sob escaping her parted lips. How ironic.

_If you love something, set it free. _

There was a small knock at the door. She jumped up, wiping tears away. The latch swung away with a click and she found herself face to face with Ron.

"Hey," he said, taking in her blotchy face and tears. He quickly gathered her in his arms, wiping her tears away with a calloused finger. She sobbed, nestling her head into the crook of his neck.

"It'll be alright," he muttered in her ear, running a hand down her back soothingly, "Pansy, Stefan, whoever the hell he is, does not deserve your tears. And besides," he tilted her head up to face him. She felt his cool breath tickle her face as he spoke the words that would change her life, "we wouldn't want to ruin that beautiful face, now, would we?"

He was so sweet.

And so, without a second though on the matter, she crashed her lips onto his.

She blamed it on the alcohol.

* * *

**This is the sequel of sorts to Friends.**

**I'd like to thank Noc007 once again for her plug of my story. If you haven't checked hers out, you should. I'd also like to thank my newly found by fantastic beta, TheRedRoseFairy. She made this chapter what it is! Thanks Lea!**

**Reviews are welcome.**


	5. Rain

Silver Lions: The Romance of Ron and Pansy

_**Silver Lions: The Romance of Ron and Pansy.**_

_**By Story Girl.**_

_**Prompt: Rain.**_

--

Tears streamed down her pale face, falling onto the soft fabric of the green pillow. She hugged it closer to her, wrapping the red comforter tighter around her shaking body.

The moon shone outside the open window and she turned to look at it, her red-rimmed eyes filled with tears as she stared at the beacon of light.

_Ron………_

They'd had another fight. Pansy sobbed, her body shaking. He'd run away again, leaving her all alone.

She wiped her tears away, sighing softly before she laid her head down on the pillow facing the moon. _Where was he?_

Cars roared down on the street, the sound floating up to her flat. She sighed, a single salty tear falling down her cheek. Pansy wrapped the comforter around her once more, black hair sticking to her wet forehead.

The window was pelted with rain, and she fumbled for her wand, swishing it to close the window. The rain made abstract patterns on the glass, its sound soothing her broken heart.

She missed him.

So much.

She closed her eyes briefly, flickering up at the dim light that filled the small room. She shook her head roughly, glancing at the clock. 11:49. He wasn't coming back.

He was probably at Harry's, she mused tearfully, as she watched the rain fall. A shiver went up her spine and she pilled more blankets on top of herself. It was so cold when he wasn't there.

She fumbled for the light switch. It turned on with a click, flooding the room with aharsh light. She pushed the blankets back, revealing her form, clothed in a pair of dark sweatpants and a blue ­tank top. She pushed her wet hair off of her forehead, swinging her legs around and placing them on the cool floorboards.

Pansy yawned softly, before standing up and padding into the bathroom. She ran a small, pale hand over her small bump, rubbing it gently, trying to feel the life within. Their baby.

She stifled a sob, sitting down on the lid of the toilet and placing her head in her hand. _Why had_ _he left? Why? Was he ever coming back? Oh God, what if he didn't and left her all alone with the baby?_ She clasped her shaking hands together, her fingernails making half-moons onto the surfaces of her palms. Tears made their way down her pale cheeks, dripping onto the tiled floor, as the rain pelted the small bathroom window.

She sighed, wiping her tears away. Pansy stood up and resting against the basin of the sink, peered into the mirror. She looked horrible.

She turned, gazing at her profile. Her bump stood out proudly, making her seem like a fat elephant. Wasn't pregnancy supposed to make her look more beautiful?

Pansy ran a hand down her bump. She was fat. Maybe that was why Ron had left her? Maybe he had some thin, blonde girl waiting for him?

She let out a loud sob, falling gently to the floor. She wrapped her once againshaking arms around her knees, pulling them closer to her stomach.

She needed him. _Where was he?_

She let out a yell, sobbing, as tears fell down her wet cheeks again. The rain pelted the window, and thunder crashed outside, before lightening struck, filling the dark sky with a bolt of light. Pansy rocked back and forth on the tiles, sobbing freely now, her cries matching the level of noise the rain made pelting the windows.

_**Where was he?**_

Through her haze, she registered the creak of the front door of her flat open. _Her baby………._

She hastily stood up, grabbing the edge of the sink for support. Her dark hair fell into her face and she pushed it back behind her ears, padding to the bedroom door.

She peered around her bedroom door, glancing down the hall. She let one arm rest protectively on her stomach as her sock-clad feet made their way down the hall.

Pansy reached the kitchen, slipping inside it and padding towards the lounge-room door. A tear fell down off her cheek. _Was she going to die? Was it a robber? Why wasn't Ron here to protect her and the baby?_

She opened the kitchen door slowly; grateful she had oiled it the night before. Her small feet led the way to the door as she glanced around the lounge room. Nothing. Had it been just the wind? She hoped so. She was a pregnant woman with no means of protection. Her wand was back in the bedroom, she realized.

Pansy opened the door, shivering as the wind hit her. She glanced around in the dark, fumbling for the porch light. She clicked it on, filling the small porch with light. No one was there, just her and her baby.

With a sigh, she shut the door. She turned the porch light off, and padded back down the hall to her bedroom.

Pansy slipped into the bed, shutting the curtains. She shifted uncomfortably on the large bed, pulling her red comforter with her. She closed her dark eyes slowly, settling down to sleep.

The noise of a snore hit her. She opened her eyes, searching around the bed. Ron?

She cleared her throat. "Ron?" She asked softly, pulling the comforter closer to her body.

A grunt came from the other side of the bed. She pushed the blankets off, crawling around the surface of the bed. She peered down, her hair falling in her face.

"Hey." Ron said, pushing himself of the floor, his blue eyes shining with tears.

Pansy pushed herself off the bed, settling on the floor. "I missed you," She began, wrapping her hands around her knees as she took him in.

Ron shivered. Her eyes widened. Pansy reached out a small hand to touch his chest. "You're freezing!" She exclaimed, standing up and making her way to the wardrobe. She came back with fresh clothes. "What happened to you?" She asked softly, peeling his wet shirt off and handing him a new one.

"I was caught in the rain," He told her, putting his shirt on. "I was in the park after I left, and," He shrugged, "I don't know, it started raining."

"So that was you at the door?" She asked, one hand rubbing her stomach as she handed him a pair of blue, flannel pajama pants. He stripped off his wet ones and pulled them one.

"Yes," He admitted, standing up and gathering her into a hug. Her form relaxed against him, their bodies melding together perfectly.

"I love you." He whispered into her hair, the scent of strawberries making its way up his nose.

"I love you too," Pansy muttered into his chest. She turned her head up, her dark eyes looking sternly at him, "Just don't do that again. You scared me so much; I didn't think you were ever going to come back!"

"I'd always come back," Ron whispered, "I ran because it all hit me at once, looking at you. I'm going to be a father in six months Pans, and I don't think I'm ready."

"You're ready," She mumbled into his chest, her nose rubbing against his muscles, "I've seen you with James and Victorie. You're perfectly fine with them. Fatherhood is going to be the same Ron. You have nothing to worry about."

"It's not the same," He began, "I'm an uncle to James and Victorie. It's not a full-time job. I'll be a full-time father to this baby and I'm scared. What if I drop it? What if I poison it? What if?"

Pansy laughed. "I'm scared too," She admitted, "I've got to feed this baby and bathe it, and teach it everything I know. Maybe you should ask Bill and Harry what makes a good father. Even if you don't, I know in my heart you will be a good father. Just teach this baby right from wrong, read to it, and love it and it'll love you." She placed one of his large hands on her belly. "You'll be a great father."

Ron smiled. "And you'll be a great mother," He lead her to the bed, and helped her in, wrapping the sheets around her body.

"We already knew that," She whispered teasingly, as he wrapped his arms around her body. Her head rested on his chest.

Ron laughed. Silence fell over the room as the two fell to sleep, the storm finally over.

_They would be great parents._

_**--**_

_**An:**_ _Please forgive the wait; I've been on a sort of holiday. Now, in this one James and Victorie were going to be to different names - David and Annabelle- but I thought, why not just stick to cannon? And I did. Many thanks to my beta, Lea, for taking the time to look over the chapter and correct anything - everthing! - I missed._

_Review?_

_Story Girl._


	6. Beginnings

Silver Lions: The Romance of Ron and Pansy

_**Silver Lions: The Romance of Ron and Pansy. **_

_**By StoryGirl.**_

_**Prompt: Beginnings. **_

--

--

-

She stared gloomily at the window, dark eyes reflecting the lightening that pelted the castle. Rain hit the glass with a never ceasing drumming.

She mirrored that by drumming her pale, slender fingers on the top of the desk, humming softly; a forgotten melody that her mother had once sung.

Pansy sighed, brushing stray wisps of hair from her face. It was never going to stop raining it seemed, after a week of the lightening and thunder pelting the castle, day in, day out. Every day, she woke up to a storm and every night she fell asleep to a storm.

She was so bored. Draco was in the common room, as usual, with Blaise, as they both played card games and did whatever young boys did. She didn't know what they did, and didn't really want to find out. It wasn't interesting to her. Millie and Mary were in the library, studying. Pansy stifled a snort, the noise echoing in the dark room as she clamped a hand over her small nose, bubbles of laughter shaking her small chest. With hardly a brain cell between them, Mille and Mary were not the smartest match in pairing for the potions project. All though, she supposed, neither were her and the Weasel.

She shook her small head, groaning as she laid her arms down on the small table, dark eyes peering up sadly at the rain. Honestly, what was Slughorn doing? She and the Weasel? It wasn't a good match- that was for certain. She was just glad he hadn't sought her out to start their project. She couldn't handle that.

Pansy closed her eyes, sighing softly. She wrapped her robes tighter around her shaking body, shivering slightly. She laid her head down on the cool table once more, yawning as she watched the rain, a brown eye peeking out from her robe.

A bolt of lightening lit up the dark sky, followed closely by a crack of thunder. Pansy shivered, fear running up her spine before she shook her head gently, worries forgotten as the noise of the pelting rain returned.

There were footsteps in the hallway, booted feet pounding on the tiles. Pansy shook her head once more, yawning. _Ghosts,_ she thought, a hand coming up to push a lock of hair behind her ear. There was nothing to worry about, she was fine, and she would remain that way.

The door creaked open and she jumped up with a start, face flushed. She waited in anticipation for the ghost to show itself, drumming her fingers on the surface of the table, humming slightly.

"Hello?" A voice said into the room. Pansy clasped a hand to her heart. So, not a ghost then. But, then, who could it be? This was an empty, deserted hallway near the Slytherin common room. Who could have possibly stumbled into the one room that wasn't vacant?

A sigh emitted itself from her mouth, as she laid back down on the table, mind pounding with unanswered questions. She sighed once more, a hand coming up to shield her eyes from the sight of the lightening streaking across the sky.

"Hello?" repeated the voice once more, the door finally swinging fully open. Pansy raised her small head softly to gaze into the darkness.

"Hello?" She asked softly, blinking as lightening lit up the small room for a moment. She squinted at the form in the corner, blinking wildly to try and capture his looks before the lightening disappeared, darkening the room.

"Who's there?" The voice said wildly, his hands reaching out into the darkness to grasp something. " What is your name?" Pansy shivered slightly, wrapping her robe tighter around her from.

"I can not say," She answered softly, her voice coming out in a small whisper.

"Why?" The voice asked in a whisper, it's form landing heavily on the cold ground. Pansy heard an "Ouch!" emit itself from the figure's mouth and then a chuckle echoed in the room.

"I just can not," She answered. "Besides, who are you? It is not fair for you to ask me for my name and me to not know yours." Pansy rubbed a soft hand over the surface of the desk, turning her gaze off of the figure and onto the rain that pelted the window. She sighed.

"I can not," The voice replied. "I can not tell you my name. I do not even know you, and besides, even if I did, who is to say that you would like me or know me? I'd prefer to keep our identity's secret from each other. I think that would be best, don't you?"

"Yes," Pansy whispered, a soft hand rubbing her cheek as she let out a sigh.

"Good," Answered the voice. "But I'd like to now something about you, so it doesn't get to confusing. Is asking for your gender too uncomfortable?" There was a thump as the voice, Pansy supposed, settled down on the cold ground. The wind howled outside, and rain pelted, as Pansy though, rubbing a hand over her eyes.

"I'm a girl," She mumbled, the words suddenly feeling uncomfortable in her mouth, like they were crowding it and had to get out, "I am a girl." She repeated louder and more confident, the flush disappearing from her face.

The voice chuckled softly. "I'm glad," He said, "as it will make this a little less uncomfortable."

"Why?" Pansy asked gently. "Are you a girl too?"

Laughter echoed in the room, as the voice shifted on the floor. "No," It began, "I'm a boy, in fact, not a girl, I'm afraid. Far from it." He trailed off softly; a sigh emitted itself from his mouth.

"Oh," Pansy whispered.

"Is that a bad thing?" The voice asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over them. Pansy could make out the barest of a smile playing on his lips.

"No, no," She assured, eyes wide. "That's fine. I'm sure you kind and all that. It's just that I've had some troubles with some boys over the last couple of weeks, so I'm feeling a little hesitant towards the male gender."

"Oh," He answered. "Oh, that's fine. I've had some troubles myself, but towards the female gender lately." He chuckled softly, shifting on the floor.

Pansy laughed softly, smiling.

"You have a nice laugh." He muttered out softly, almost embarrassed by saying it.

Pansy blushed, a hand covering her face, a brown eyes peeking out between the gaps between her fingers. "Oh," She answered softly. "Well, you have a nice laugh too," She said kindly, gazing out towards the rain filled sky.

"You don't have to say that," The voice said.

"But you do!" Pansy argued. "You do have a nice laugh, I swear it!" She dropped her hand from her face, smiling gently in the darkness.

The figure shifted on the floor once again, tugging something towards him before sighing and dropping the object onto the floor with a loud thump. "Thanks," He mumbled softly.

"It's okay," She whispered back, smiling once more as she wrapped her robes tighter around her slim frame, goose bumps rising on her delicate pale skin. She shivered.

"Cold?" Asked the voice.

"Yes,' She answered, and she heard him stand up, grunting as he lifted his weight from the cold floor and walk over, shedding his robe. He settled it around her shivering frame. She shot him a smile.

"Thanks," She whispered.

"It's okay," The voice breathed into her ear, raising more goose bumps on her arms and legs. She shivered softly, taking a deep breath of the cold air, her red lips parting in the darkness.

Pansy smiled softly at the figure behind her, turning around on the small chair. "Sit," She playfully ordered and he complied, bag forgotten, lying half-heartedly on the cold ground, metres away from the pair.

"What's your name?" The voice asked suddenly, his voice filling the room. Pansy's smile dropped from her face as she pulled the two robes tighter around her once more shaking frame.

"I can not say," She pleaded gently, hands clasped and in her lap.

"Why not?" Asked the voice. "Why not?" It repeated, softer this time.

"You will hate me for it," She answered, covering her cold face with her hands. She frowned softly. "You will hate me." She repeated gently.

"No I won't," The voice promised. Pansy laughed.

"You will!" She argued. "You will; I know you will!"

"I won't," The voice pleaded softly to her, leaning closer to her frame in the darkness.

"Fine!" Pansy shot at him, hands curling around the material of her robe. She brushed wisps of hair from her eyes. "Fine!" She repeated. "But you have to tell me yours."

'I will," The voice promised.

"Okay." Pansy leant closer to his form, lips a centimetre apart from his. She shivered, puffs of white emitting from her red mouth. The figure shifted closer to her, a smile playing on his lips as lightening shot across the sky.

"I'm Pansy," She whispered into his ear as thunder ran through the room. The figure did not back away in fright, nor in disbelief, but leant in closer to her, his mouth touching the rim of her ear.

"Ron." He breathed softly, as lightening ran once more across the sky. Pansy shivered, her dark eyes searching his. "You don't hate me?" She asked.

'No." He breathed softly before his lips crashed onto hers.

Rain pelted the windows harshly, as Pansy and Ron kissed. Lightening shot across the sky and she clutched him tighter to her. Thunder crashed and they fell to the ground, their mouths meeting once more in a kiss that would start their hearts once more beating.

--

_Review?_


	7. School

**_Silver Lions; The Romance of Ron and Pansy._**

**_School._**

On the day of their graduation Pansy Elfeda Parkinson felt herself develop butterflies in her stomach. This was the day of their graduation, after all, the last time they would be seeing the castle they had made their home for the last seven years. But it was more than that. She was nervous, frighteningly so, because today was the day she was to announce her relationship to the world.

Today was the day she would tell everyone that she had been seeing Ronald Weasley for the last four months.

Pansy slipped on her dress robe, muttering to herself as she dragged a comb through her hair. Daphne stood in front of the mirror, her blonde hair up in a bun, nervously reciting her speech. Four students had been chosen, one from every House, to stand in front of the parents, students and teachers, and say a speech. A speech that was to tell everyone of their time at Hogwarts.

A speech that would, _(hopefully, for Pansy crossed her fingers)_ convince everyone that not all Slytherins were bad.

But not Millie. Millie fully supported Voldemort, his ideals, being in his service. Her parents were arranging her induction for the next month, and Pansy couldn't help feel a pang of sympathy for her friend, although she knew that soon her parents would be doing the same. She had perhaps half a year before she was inducted as well, facing the same fate as Millie, Daphne, Astoria - _as the young girl was to be inducted with her sister, as per her wishes-_ and Draco. She had half a year to not be part of the Death Eaters, half a year to live her life before she was sentenced to slavery under Voldemort.

Millie crossed the room, dressed in a black dress robe, her brown hair curled and flowing down her bad. It had grown amazingly long during this year, Pansy reflected, while hers had kept to the same length, just below her shoulders. Millie clasped a thick hand onto Daphne's shoulder, whispering reassuring words to her friend. They all needed help during this time, all of them facing the service of Voldemort. Few wanted it, but a few did.

Pansy sat down on the bed, her light form barely denting the thick mattress. She placed her head in her hands, sighing as she briefly closed her eyes, a finger clutching the material of her dress robe.

This was the day of their graduation. Oh, bugger.

-------

Stories above, Ronald Weasley woke up to the sounds of screaming. Very high screaming. He turned, and placed the pillow over his head, burying his face into the mattress. Who the hell was screaming at this time of day? Did they have any respect for their Housemates? And, why, oh why, wouldn't they shut up?

Harry grinned down at his friend, glasses pushed up against his nose. "Ginny," He explained, as Ron raised an eyebrow. "Apparently she's upset that Hermione's leaving and is in hysterics."

Ron snorted, before yawning stretching his arms above his head. "That's Ginny," He muttered, eyes staring at the red canopy.

"Going to be hard to leave this place," Harry said, walking over to his on bed and laying down on it, closing his eyes. "Never really imagined a life beyond Hogwarts."

"We could come back?" Ron suggested, closing his eyes once more and turning to lie on his front, head pushed into his soft pillow.

"As what? Professors? No, mate, sorry but I think 'Mione's already taken that next vacant spot."

Ron laughed, the sound muffled by the pillow. "Got that right," He mumbled. Hermione had always been one for her studies, and it certainly seemed likely that she'd take over the next vacant position she was offered. Already, Binns had approached her to ask her to take over some of his lessons. It seemed like the ghost, even though he was already dead, still felt the effects of aging. It would be a good fit, he mused, Hermione and Hogwarts. She'd certainly teach the midgets properly!

But what was he going to do? Harry was already accepted by Kingsley to be an Auror, but, unfortunately the same benefits hadn't fallen to Ron and if he wanted to be an Auror he'd be facing two years of training.

"So," began Harry, reaching for his crumpled piece of parchment blindly.

"So." Ron repeated, before clearing his throat. "Got your speech ready?"

"Yeah. Bit long though, but hey, I don't think anyone will mind. Ginny will drown me out with her tears. Apparently, according to your mum, she used up all the tissues in one half an hour. I've never seen her so upset."

Ron lifted his head, pulling back the thick red duvet, exposing his sleep pant clad body to the cool wind that came through the window. He noticed the three empty beds and raised an eyebrow. "Where's Neville, Dean and Seamus?"

"Great Hall. They're having an early breakfast," Harry answered, scrunching his face up in concentration as he read over his speech. "Do you think Hermione will read over this if I ask her nicely?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno."

Harry sighed, sitting up on his bed, his legs swung over the side, his shoes hitting the floorboards. "Better ask her before it's too late." Brushing black bangs off his eyes, he left the room through the open door, stomping down the stairs to the Common Room.

Ron yawned, sitting up in beds, his knees curled up to his bare chest. Sighing, he stood up, padding across to the bathroom, where, he could, hopefully, take a hot shower if his Housemates hadn't used up all the water.

This was the day they were leaving Hogwarts. The day they were to graduate. Oh, blimey.

------

She'd miss the castle. The times she had had here; tormenting Gryffindors, chatting in the common room, surrounded by sugary sweets. She'd even miss class, for Merlin's sake! Dumbledore had held a feast last night, only for the seventh years, and for once, Pansy had actually listened to what the old man had said and had believed it. _"After this, you will all be entering an unknown world, a world where you will not be protected by the safety of this castle. I can only wish you all luck, and hope that you will all survive this war. Good luck, seventh-years and enjoy the feast!" _For once, the old man had been right.

For once, she was shaking, her brown hair in ponytail, sitting on a white garden chair on the grounds, dressed in her black robes. Millie sat rows in front of her, eyes fixed straight ahead. Her hands were laced together so tightly, her knuckles were white. Nervous as she was, Millie never broke her stare. Pansy had to feel a pang of jealously at that, as her eyes were darting to and fro, searching for him. _Ron._

He stumbled onto the grounds, feet tripping over his robes. A hand ran through his red hair, eyes searching the chairs. They locked onto Pansy's and twinkled before he broke his stare as Potter clasped a hand onto his shoulder. They made their way to their seats, Potter sitting down the aisle from her and Ron sitting away, on the other side of the grounds. Separated from him by an aisle and fellow students, she had never been so nervous. Her hands clutching the material of her robe, she watched as Dumbledore started the ceremony.

She barely listened to his speech, tuning back in for Daphne's speech, which thankfully was great and hopefully shocked a few into thinking that all Slytherins weren't bad! Instead, her eyes were locked on Ron, his eyes turned to the front, hands by his side. She had never seen such a beautiful thing in her life. Even Mother's roses didn't compare and they had been highly praised in _"Pureblooded Gardens; How They Maintain Them."_

Then the handing out of N.E.W.T.S results started, and she gripped her robe tighter, attracting strange looks from the girl next to her.

Mille went up, proud and bold, collecting her results with a smile from Professor Snape. Then, in no time at all, the girl next to Pansy was called up. She was next. She gripped her robe tighter, before releasing it hearing her name called out. Nervously, shaking, she walked up to the stage, collecting the paper of Professor Snape with shaky hands. She forced a small smile on to her pale face, and walked down the other steps leading off of the stage and to the crowd of students that had already collected their results. Mille grabbed her into a hug, laughing into her ear. "I passed!" Daphne shouted, from her other side, her smiling face out the corner of Pansy's eyes.

Millie released her from the hug, still smiling, her results in front of her. "All E's," She said to Pansy, smiling.

"Congratulations!"

Pansy smiled at her friends, and as they watched with careful eyes, she pulled the green ribbon holding the paper together off. For the first time in her Hogwarts career, there wasn't a single D, P, or T marking the parchment. For the first time in her life, she hadn't failed.

This should, she supposed, make her happy, but at that moment, the parchment in her hands, she was only filled with dread, her heart clenching.

Ron was walking up to collect his results. Her throat dried, the moisture disappearing from it that had previously been there. This was the time. She couldn't back out now. She had to do it. She'd promised him.

With large hands, Ron took his results off Professor McGonagall, and began walking towards the steps. Potter and Granger, clasped around each other, their parchments in their hands, walked towards him, smiling. Expecting him to go to them.

But he didn't. As they had previously agreed, late last night in the library, over a pile of books. She had agreed to do this.

And as they had agreed, Ron came over to her, placed his arm around her shaking shoulders, and planted a kiss right on her cheek.

Then Daphne broke the silence, the gaping mouths, the loss of words from Potter and Granger, by squealing, "I knew it! I knew it, didn't I Millie?"

Pansy looked at Millie.

And she just smiled.


	8. Christmastime

_**Christmastime.**_

Christmastime had never been a particular jolly time in her house. But now, eighteen at last and free of her parents, living on her own, Pansy felt that maybe, this year she could experience Christmas like it was supposed to be experienced.

She started off with carols, and found herself singing along with them where it been in Muggle London where the stores were crowed with hundreds of Muggles everyday, all of them arguing over who had seen their purchase first. Where it was in the Wizarding world, in Diagon Alley, or in Muggle London, Pansy made an effort to sing along with every single carol that was played near her. After all, she had been denied this thrill when she was younger, and she felt giddy when she sung along with them, felt like she was experiencing a real Christmas at last.

Her parents weren't happy with her decision though. At Pureblood and part of an old wizarding line that stretched back to the Middle Ages, her parents were strict their ways. Anyway, despite their protesting, she continued on with her happy Christmases and went on her merry way, leaving them at the mansion to spend their Christmas they way they had always done it; cold, delicate and fragile. Christmas was supposed to be joyous, loud and merry.

Her next step was to buy presents for everyone she was friends with. This step was the hardest. Draco was easy to buy for, with a set of new robes and cologne wrapped and sent on its way to be delivered to him on Christmas morning. She brought necklaces for Daphne and Millie, with a smaller bracelet sent to Astoria. Pansy bought a set of books for her father, and a pair of new dress robes for her mother in a shade of silver.

After all that was done, she went to the café to buy herself a coffee, feeling like she deserved caffeine for all the shopping she had done.

It was there that she bump into Ronald Weasley, carrying two large cups of coffee and a biscuit in hand. His red hair had been cut recently, and rested above his ears.

"Done some shopping, Parkinson," He remarked when he saw the load of bags hanging of off her arms. She shrugged, smiling slightly.

"That all for you?" She sent back his way, passing by him to reach the counter. Placing her order, she turned to face him as she waited for his answer.

"Of course not," He said, finally, after a minute of waiting. "One's for Harry."

"Potter still alive then?" She asked. "Pity."

Weasley smiled softly. "Malfoy still alive?"

"Yes. As well as ever."

"Bugger."

Pansy let out a soft laugh, grabbing her cup of coffee for the waitress. She handed over her money, before walking past Weasley. "It wasn't nice to see you again," She yelled to him, as she walked out of the café, bags hanging off each of arm.

That night was spent wrapping all of her presents. She went through a roll of sticky-tape before she managed to figure it out. Pansy had vowed that she would do her gift-wrapping the Muggle way, expect for Draco's present. She knew that he would be upset if he knew she had wrapped his present the Muggle way. Even after Hogwarts, and Voldemort, Draco still felt anger towards Muggles. Pansy supposed that was what had stopped him from getting together with Hermione Granger, whom she knew Draco had an interest in and would have married her in a second if she hadn't been Muggle.

After all her present were wrapped and cards were written, she treated herself to a cup of cocoa and watched the late-night movie of the television, falling asleep on the couch halfway through it. She woke up as the credits were rolling, and stumbling in the dark, she managed to collapse on her bed.

A week rolled by and she threw herself completely into the spirit of Christmas, ticking down the days on her calendar, baking gingerbreads men and preparing to make trifle. The snow fell outside her kitchen, coating the flowers below in a white layer.

By the time that Christmas actually rolled around, Pansy was so nervous that the dinner was going to be wrecked that she couldn't help sneaking a peek at the cooked turkey in the oven every minute or so.

At noon, just as she sat down with a bowl of soup and buttered bread, her doorbell rang. Sighing, she got up from her chair and padded towards the door, brushing black hair away from her face.

As she opened the door, he came into her view. Weasley, here on her doorstep? Pansy couldn't comprehend it and had to stifle a laugh at his appearance, his face and shoulders covered in white snow.

"Here." He shoved something towards her. She took it, confusion on her face.

"Happy Christmas," He said, before running down the stairs, leaving her all with her present. She, Pansy Parkinson, had received a present from Ronald Weasley. Okay. She could deal with this. It wasn't that unusual was it? No, it wasn't. It wasn't. It was simple an act of friendship from a boy she had teased and hated at Hogwarts. That was all. Nothing else.

It wasn't a gift from an admirer.

----

Her Christmas dinner was a success, everyone saying so. The turkey had been perfect, as had the pasta and salad. Her deserts had been a creamy pudding, and even Draco, who insisted that she not serve him second servings of it, had lapped it up eagerly, reminding Pansy of her pet cat, Patience.

The presents had been given out and cards handed to each and every one of them. After she shut the door, finally shooing Draco away from her apartment at eleven at night, she

went straight to bed, the wrapped present from Ronald Weasley sitting under the tree, the very same spot where it had been all day.

When she woke up in the morning, the sun was peeking through the clouds, sending small rays of light onto London. Pansy yawned, wrapping an elastic around her ponytail and slipping on sweats. She walked into her kitchen, still yawning. The present still remained in its spot from last night, the striped red and gold wrapping seeming to stare at her, willing her to give and open it. Pansy couldn't deny that she felt a twinge of interest towards the present.

Why had Ronald Weasley, whom had hated her at Hogwarts, given her a present? Sure, she liked Christmas, that was for sure, but she could hardly believe that it had been an act of giving.

After all, she had been awful towards him at school. That sort of behavior wasn't rewarded.

She sat down for breakfast, spooning cereal into her awaiting mouth. The newspaper laid out in front of her, the clock ticked in the hallway, and Pansy crossed her arms over her stomach, denying them the urge to grab the present and open it. Christmas was officially over at midnight last night, so therefore she had missed her chance to open this present and would have to wait till next year to open it.

It would just have to wait. She had other important things to do.

After clearing her bowl and spoon into the sink, she went into the bathroom to wash up for work. Boxing Day meant no rest for her. The store had to be opened for the herds of gaggling witches to rush in and snatch up the sales. Sighing, she shook her head in the mirror's reflection.

Dressing in black slacks and a blue blouse, she went back out into the lounge room her black heels clacking on the floor. The present still stared at her from below the tree.

She shook her head, grabbing her hand bag and keys. The present could wait. Christmas could wait. Right now, she had to find Weasley.

Because nothing was more important than finding him and kissing him. After all, he had taught her the real meaning of Christmas.

_**AN:**_ This is un-betaed, because I wanted this up before Christmas. A merry Christmas to every one of my readers. Hope you receive all the presents you want. I know I will! :D This will be my last update for the year, as I am going away with the family to visit my grandfather. Hope you all have a Happy New Year and look forward to see you in the New Year. :D


	9. Dating

_**Silver Lions: The Romance of Ron and Pansy. **_

_**Dating.**_

He'd been dating the Mudblood for a week now, and Pansy hated it. Ron walked around, Granger hanging off his arm, and she watched in the shadows as they kissed and cuddled, showing the whole world that they were dating, and that he had forgotten about her, the girl he once had to love in secret.

Pansy still couldn't believe that she had been cast aside so quickly, with just once snap of his fingers, just because Granger was interested in him now. She had realized something in the days following their break-up though, that however long they had been trying to make it work, that even how much she loved him, he would never love her as much as he loved Granger. To him, Granger was his Juliet, and she, Pansy, was just some stupid, idiotic girl that had been used to fill in the time.

He had loved her though, no matter how little it was. He had loved her, and that meant something, even though he would never love her as much as he did Granger.

Pansy sighed, pushing a curl back behind her ear. With a quill in hand, she quickly scribbled down the writing that had been pushed to her, before she scrunched the parchment up and threw it in the bin. Secret notes about the group latest meeting had to be copied down once, then screwed up and thrown in the bin, after the writing on it was undecipherable. This was one of the leader's rules, whoever he or she was.

Never being allowed to meet the leader, she still had no clue as to who he was, even after a year of membership.

Draco, crunching on a corner of toast, peered over her shoulder to read the parchment. She scowled at him, hiding it with her hand. "Oi!" She barked, snatching his plate away.

He smirked. "What's the matter Pansy? Gryffindor got your tongue?"

"Shut up," She snapped back, the plate landing with a crash in front of him. He winced, rubbing his arm softly as she stood up and walked off, a small tear running down her cheeks as Ron hugged Granger to him, a freckled arm slung around her shoulders.

God, didn't he remember their time together? God, she was being taunted with this because of all the hurtful things she had screamed at him after and before their split. Some higher being wanted to see her crumble, to witness the destruction of Pansy Parkinson. Well, that would never happen, she swore to herself silently. She would not let some silly Weasley get the best of her, make her crumble, all because he'd traded her in for a newer model that he could actually flaunt in public, instead of her, the screaming, emotional Slytherin that he had to have secret moments with in the shadows, long after everyone had gone to bed.

How had this happened to her? How had she let herself be deceived by the sweet thing she had whispered into her ears, the longing glances he had given in the Great Hall, and in lessons? How could she have ever fallen for him, the lanky, freckled, Ron Weasley, with not even a Sickle to his name?

But deep down inside, she knew why. She had fallen for him because he was the first boy that had ever kissed her like he loved her, and would never let her go.

A scoff bounced down the hallway. She twisted her hair up in a bun, clasping a clip on it to keep it in place before sliding down to the floor, her knees up to her chest.

Her head burrowed into her arms, a single tear sliding down her cheeks and landing on the corner of her robe. Thank Merlin Potions was the first lesson. Knowing Slughorn, he wouldn't even notice she was absent from the class, not even if she appeared in the doorway and shouted at him. She hadn't been attending that class much lately, ever since Ron and Granger had become a couple. She could barely stand the sight of them cuddling in the Great Hall, and hearing them whisper to each other as she worked had been the deciding factor to skip Potions all together. Pansy hadn't liked it that much, but she'd had a spare slot in her timetable, and needed something to fill it in.

It had been enjoyable when she had been with Ron, watching as he blew up Hannah's cauldron, seeing the happiness on his face as they worked together. Now, Potions was the worst subject in the world.

A week back, she'd been forced to pair with Granger in Transfiguration, per McGonagall's request. That had been the worst lesson that year, listening to Granger trying to make awkward small talk, and pretend like she didn't have a large hickey on her neck, visible to only Pansy's eyes. They both knew where or who it had come from, and both were trying to pretend like they didn't.

When the lesson had finished, Pansy had stormed out of the classroom, the first one to reach the Great Hall. During lunch, she'd watched Granger happily snuggle up to her boyfriend, Potter watching with a smile on his face, his own arm around his own girlfriend, Weasley's sister. He'd been the one to tell Ron that he knew of his and Pansy's relationship, and ultimately break them up, forcing Granger into Ron's open arms, to mend his poor broken heart.

* * *

Nightfall came and went, and with it the meeting. Pansy begrudgingly attended, hardly bothering to brush her hair before she left for the library. As always, the group's vice-president, Ernie Macmillan, stood before them, his curly haired head bobbing up and down almost comically.

"Tonight," He said, Pansy closing her eyes softly as she listened, "we shall meet the leader of our group. He has been hiding his identity for some while now (a laugh came from the crowd then), but shall reveal it now! And without further ado, let me present our leader!"

The boy stepped out, Pansy's eyes still closed. A whisper came up from the crowd, giggles escaping from girls' mouths, and boys thumping each others arm, and crowing as they won a long-forgotten bet.

Sighing, she opened her eyes, peering over people's head to see the boy, who had broken her heart waving, a smile on his face.

* * *

What the hell was wrong with this world?

She fell into bed sobbing, muffling the sound of her tears by shoving her head underneath her pillow. God! Why was he the leader, why was he the one she had admired for his tactics, for the way he was the one who had managed to unite Hogwarts, however small it was. But now, when she had met him, and found out that he was Ronald Weasley, the one boy she wished to have nothing to do with until she died, all her compliments of him had been thrown out the window, landing hard on the cobblestones below.

Daphne came in, her naturally pale face flushed red at the cheeks, pulling her sweaty shirt off. "Merlin, Draco worked us hard this practice!" She exclaimed, astonished. She shook her head, falling onto the covers of her bed.

Pansy grunted, still hiding her blotched face from view. As if on cue, following Daphne, the other girls began to fill in, Millie thundering through and landing on her bed with a large thump, Mary timidly following, books clutched to her chest.

Chattering loudly, the girls eyed Pansy carefully, watching as she dried her tears with the edge of her pillow, sitting up, smiling. What had happened to cause such a change, in such a short space of time? Before Daphne had left for her practice, and Pansy for her meeting, Pansy had been happy, unusually so, but now she seemed to have fallen, and landed hard, into the pit of despair.

What had happened to cause their friend such despair?

Slowly, they all prepared for bed, Pansy changing into her pajamas slowly, folding her robes and placing them at the end of her bed. Clipping her hair up, a tissue in hand, she sat on top of her bed, Mary peering over the top of her book to look at Pansy as Daphne ran around her bed, trying to snatch back her dress from Millie's hands.

"He's not worth it, you know," Mary said, turning a page in her textbook. With all the concentration that other girls didn't have, Mary was their brains, and had often been cheated off in a test or two. It wasn't that she didn't care; it was that to be accepted and actually have friends in the school, she had to let them cheat, so she did. It was cruel, and perhaps unjust, but that was the way things went, and, considering her current predicament, Pansy couldn't be bothered to do a thing about it.

"Who?" She asked, drawing her legs up to her chest, a blanket around her feet.

"The boy whose made you so miserable."

Pansy scowled. "Maybe is not a boy," She argued, furrowing her eyebrows as she glanced at Mary.

She shook her head, sighing. "Maybe it's not, maybe it is. Whoever it is, they're not worth it."

With that said, she switched out her light, the book landing on the floor loudly. Pansy yawned falling back into bed and drawing the blankets up around her. Maybe Mary was right. Ron wasn't really worth it, she knew that. He was just a boy, and even though he may have been her first love, she was young, and it had been stupid to pretend that it could have worked.

* * *

So she forgot about him, and two months later, when she had forgotten, Granger and Wealsey broke up. Shoving a piece of toast in her mouth, trying to clasp her robes together, she nearly chocked when Mary told her.

"What?" She asked, after she had swallowed, robes firmly in place.

"They've broken up. Apparently Granger's crying her heart out in the girl's toilets. Don't blame her."

"Why?" Pansy asked, shoving a notepad into Mary's awaiting hand, bag slung over her shoulder.

Mary shrugged. "He said he liked somebody else. Had Granger in tears though, and Millie roared at the sight of that."

Pansy smiled slightly, almost bumping into Nott as they walked down the stairs. "Sorry," He said, moving around them as he continued up to Ancient Runes.

This caused Pansy to spin around. "Hey, Theo!" She called, watching as the dark-haired boy turned around, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"What?"

"Think Granger'll be in Runes?"

Theo laughed. "Doubt it! She'll be in that bathroom for the rest of the day, I'd bet." With that said, he turned around once more, and continued up the steeped stairs.

They continued down to Potions, where, hopefully, Weasley wouldn't be.

* * *

Hope diminished; Pansy waved Mary on, glancing up at Weasley. "Yes?" She asked, tapping her foot against the floor.

"You heard?" He said, glancing around nervously.

"Heard what?"

"That I dumped Hermione."

"Oh. That."

There was silence, as she waited for him to say something.

"I dumped her for you."

"What?! Merlin, Ron, you dump me for her, then her for me. I've moved on, you seriously can expect me to go out with you again!"

"I think I love you." As he lowered his eyes to the floor, Pansy felt her heart skip a beat. She clutched her robes tightly, bag falling to the floor.

"Say it again."

He looked confused for a second before saying, "I want you to go out with me?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "No, the other thing."

"Oh." He smiled slightly. "I think I love you."

"That's it," She whispered. Never, after all their months before, had he told her he loved her. Now, hearing it for the first time in her life, hearing it like it actually meant something as was true, made her fall back in love with him again, tumbling down from the perch she had tried to stabilize herself.

And, for the first time, the familiar feeling of his lips on hers overcame her.


	10. Provide

**Provide. **

**StoryGirl.**

* * *

He provided the necessary means for her to escape from underneath her parents. Nobody else would have worked, they would have refused to believe it. By telling them that she was in love with a boy she had admitted to hate with her whole heart, they would have no choice but to believe it.

At the start, she had told herself that he would only be used for her escape, that their so-called little relationship would be a total sham, only for appearances sakes only, until they unfortunately hit a bump in the road, and had to split, both going their separate ways. The plan had worked, for a while, both parties committing themselves fully.

But the one thing she hadn't planned to happen, _happened. _

She fell in love with him, the bumbling, awkward Gryffindor. It hadn't been planned, and not wanted, to say the least. But still, it had happened, and as these things always go, he hadn't returned her feelings, and had left her little heart lying in shattered pieces on the floor.

It was meant to be that way. That didn't mean that she liked it, or would accept it. Her life had been a sham, a fake, right up until this point. If she was to do anything to break out of the circle of balls, dresses, and snobby comments, now was the time to do it. But she'd been scared, warned by her fellow Slytherins that if she put even a single toe or finger out of line, her life would be the price. To tell everyone of her real love towards Ron Weasley would be her ultimate betrayal.

So she didn't tell him, hid in corners, watching as he flirted and laughed, pulled girls close. Watched as the girls laughed, smiled up at him, gazed into the eyes that she had once fallen deep in love with. He returned their feelings in full, became the Don Juan of Hogwarts, until, finally, one girl caught and tamed the irrepressible, so-called, "sex god."

She laughed openly with her housemates at the total stupidity of it, but secretly, cried, when she realized the fact that the one man she wanted would never be hers.

That was when Blaise proposed. And, she, pushed by her parents, accepted, and she, once on top of the world, sunk right down to the bottom at the prospect of becoming Mrs. Blaise Zabini.

It was on the fifth of August, when she had already accepted her diploma with pride, and had already entered the wizarding world, glittering, heavy engagement ring on her finger, not as Pansy Parkinson but as the future bride of Blaise Zabini, that she saw him. Upon one of her rare visits to Diagon Alley, she caught sight of Ronald Weasley, laughing happily in the open as he pulled his girlfriend of four months, Hermione Granger, closer, identical beaming smiles plastered onto their face. Potter looked pleased at the sight of his two best friends canoodling in public, as did the red-haired witch that hung off Potter's own arm in a so-called act of affection. The youngest Weasley, Pansy guessed, as she stood frozen in place, watching the crowd rush before her, judging by the red hair and the freckles.

She watched then, hidden in the shadows, until they rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. Then, she, heartbroken, her engagement ring rubbing over the soft swell of her stomach, a single tear running down her cheek, disapparated back to the Manor.

Her life was a sham, until she gave birth to her daughter, the little girl, with beautiful dark curls, a single light in Pansy's darkness.

But that hopeful fragment of light was shattered when her daughter, Isabelle Sienna Amelie Zabini, lay back in her cot, tiny hands squriming, and opened her eyes for the first time.

They were a shocking colour of blue, a colour that had not appeared in either of their families for decades.

The one thing that was a constant reminder to Pansy that she had loved, and then lost, Ron Weasley through the decades until her ultimate death.

**

* * *

****AN: As it takes me ages to come up, and complete, new, orginal ideas, I've taken a leaf out of Noc007's book and decided to shorten the chapter lengths on Silver Lions by half, or around it. Also, previous chapters will be going through massive re-writes. Enjoy! Massive thanks to my beta, Lea (also known as the RedRoseFairy) for spotting the things I would have surely missed! :D**

**Friends Quote: **

**Ross**_: We were on a break!  
_**Chandler**_: Oh, my God! If you say that one more time, I'm going to break up with you!_


	11. Libraries

****

Libraries.

**StoryGirl.**

* * *

Ink was splattered all over her face, blotches of the dark, sticky liquid scattered over her cheeks. She scrubbed at it furiously, with her fingers, before sighing and giving up, returning to the open book in front of her.

Pansy looked a mess, which she knew. Robes askew, ink on her face, she looked horrible. She'd have to dash up to the Common Room before dinner, and rectify her appearance.

It was all Draco's fault; she fumed angrily, flipping the pages over in the book with more force than was necessary. If he hadn't come up behind her and scared her half to death, she wouldn't have dropped her books, and that boy wouldn't have run into those books, and that boy wouldn't have spilled his open ink pot all over her. Draco was the reason behind her disheveled appearance, and he would pay for it.

The library was silent, with not even a glimpse of the taunting Mudblood Granger. How she could stand to come in here everyday, Pansy did not know. Libraries were horrid, her own excluded. Draco's was alright, she supposed, but too empty for the likes of her.

Madam Pince coughed softly at the counter, pointing a well-raised eyebrow- from years of practice, Pansy knew- at the clock, where its hands were now vastly approaching the six. Grumbling, Pansy shoved the book into her back, gathering up her quills and ink, careful to cap the bottles correctly.

Then she walked out of the library, still scrubbing at her ink stains, and walked right into the rock-hard chest of one Ron Weasley.

"Oomph!" Flung down the hallway, she landed with a clatter against a suit of armor, apologizing numerously as she gathered up her scattered possessions. Flushing with embarrassment, she tucked a strand of curly black hair behind her ear and stood up, brushing down her skirt.

"Sorry," Ron said, blushing profoundly, making his red hair seem even redder than usual. She smiled up at her, securing her bag on her shoulder, and taking off at a fast pace down the hall, her heels clunking against the wooden floors.

"Wait," he called up, making her hesitate before taking a few more steps towards the end of the hall. "Wait," he repeated, a tone of urgency creeping into his voice. She glanced back over her shoulder to capture his blue eyes with her own brown eyes, smiling. Turning around fully, she walked towards him, hands clutching at her shirt, tugging it down towards her hips.

"Yes?" she asked, looking up at him, instantly hating the height difference between them.

"You have ink on your cheek," he said, gesturing towards his own cheek.

She smiled, before blushing softly, and roughly scrubbing at her reddened cheek, willing the ink stains to suddenly disappear.

"It's still there," he told her, before bringing a finger up to her cheek to softly scrub at the stains.

After a few minutes of trying, it seemed the ink stains would not budge, and were reluctant to even start to fade to a more respectable shade.

"Sorry," he said, drawing his hand back. "It just won't budge."

She nodded in understanding. "That's okay," she said, turning to go. "I'll wash it off in a minute."

Pansy walked away, black hair blowing in the slight breeze that had appeared as the clouds had suddenly darkened, announcing the arrival of nightfall. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her, wishing for a jumper.

There was a clatter behind her. Surprise written in the lines of her heart-shaped face, she turned, smiling as she watched Ron run up to her, his lanky body moving awkwardly, in a way that she astonishingly found adorable.

"I love you," he breathed up, panting for air once he had reached her.

She nearly fainted, grabbing his arm to steady herself. "What?" she questioned, eyes searching his own for some sort of answer. Biting her lip, her free hand clutched the material of her shirt, nervously waiting for his answer.

"I love you," he repeated, wrapping his strong arms around her shaking body. A hand titled her head upwards, and a pair of blue eyes started at her.

And, then, without waiting for an answer, he crashed his lips onto hers.

Amazingly, she didn't fight him, but instead pulled his lips closer, her mind in a state of urgency.

Libraries were good for something after all.

**

* * *

****Big thanks to Lea! :D**

**Enjoy!**


	12. Gone

**Gone. **

* * *

The summer heat was sweltering, almost too hot to bear. She wiped the sweat away from her forehead, fanning herself dramatically with her free hand. Her shoes had been kicked off and thrown a few steps away, and her white dress clung to her body with sweat, almost looking like a second skin.

"It is way too hot for England," she muttered, taking a slow sip of her drink. Pansy placed the glass onto the table, murmuring with happiness as the sun's rays hit her back. A dollop of lotion was rubbed into her skin, protecting her from burning and peeling, before she finally let her eyes close against the heat.

She was asleep in two seconds.

* * *

The sky was turning black when she finally awoke, rubbing her eyes tiredly, her sunglasses long gone, falling off, and landing in the sand by her towel. She gathered her hand into an elastic, pushing back the plastered sweaty strands from her face.

Pansy pulled on her shirt, sighing, watching as the sun set against the backdrop of the sea, waves crashing down on the shore, scattering beads of sands and flinging them up into the air. She absentmindedly twirled her straw around in her fingers, nervously biting on the end, her eyes closing in peace.

Of course, as these things go, that peace was destroyed by the sudden yells of a man heading down to the waves, a sprinkling of stars reflecting of the still water.

She opened her eyes, scowling as she watched him destroy her place. She had been here first, she had found this place. And she wanted it to herself.

Suddenly decisive, she stood up, feet sinking in the soft, still warm, sand. She walked a few paces towards the man, watching as he dived into the water, his burly form relishing in the coolness. A sigh escaping her mouth, she tugged her shirt down, conscious of the fact that it hardly reached mid-thigh.

She walked into the water, the waves lapping on her toes, sand sticking to her heels. Tucking a stray frizzy curl behind her ear, she walked closer to where the man was paddling around, humming softly to himself as he floated on the water, eyes closed.

"Excuse me?" she asked, softly, nervously. She ran a sweaty hand down her shirt, licking her sore, chapped lips.

"Mmm?" the man replied, not bothering to open his eyes, his hair plastered to his forehead with water. He sighed softly, rubbing his face with a hand, water droplets making their way down back into the water, one by one.

Pansy kneeled in the water, paddling towards the man. She coughed softly; watching as the man sighed and opened his eyes, blue capturing hers. The words she had been so keen to bark out, were now stuck in her dry, sore throat, her eyes fluttering closed against the bombardment. How could one man be so perfect?

"What was it that you wanted?" the stranger asked, paddling around in the cool water. He pushed his wet fringe off his forehead, smiling softly at her still mesmerized form.

Pansy shook her head, smiling bashfully. She bit her lip softly, suddenly wishing to be back on her towel, relishing in the summer rays. Honestly, the beach was so large, if she hadn't woken up, she wouldn't have even noticed the man. He would have been a speck again the wind, a dot in the sky.

"Nothing," she muttered, walking back, the bottom of her shirt plastering itself to her thighs. She sighed softly, rubbing her hand over face, sand sprinkled over her legs and feet in clumps of golden grains.

"Wait!" the man called, but she didn't bother to turn around. Instead, she stopped in her tracks, breathing softly in the night air, watching as the moon made its way across the black sky.

The man reached her, forcefully turning her arm, placing his hand on her shoulder. "I know you from somewhere," he breathed out, shaking his head. A few water droplets sprinkled themselves on her face, and she wiped them off slowly. He seemed to not notice, and if he had, he didn't care.

"I don't know from where, or when, but I know that I know you. Who are you, anyway?"

Pansy smiled, her hand stretching out. The man took it. "Pansy Parkinson," she said, as a way of an introduction.

The man's breathing suddenly stopped, and he ran his hand through his hair; which she, under the bright light of the moon, could now see was a flaming red, bright against the blackness.

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "Why is it always like this?" he murmured, so softly she could have missed it. She shook her head in confusion, breathing heavily, before narrowing her eyes.

_Wait. _

Did she know him? Something seemed to bug at her, something that she was sure about him. Her head titled to the side, she continued to gaze at him, tugging absent—mindedly on wild strands of black hair. Her lips ached up at her, and she refused to urge to dart out her tongue and relieve the soreness. She knew him.

He opened his eyes suddenly, sighing against the whistling wind. Blue, like the ocean, blue, like someone's she knew.

Who did she know with blue eyes? More correctly, who hated her that had blue eyes?

Her heart nearly leaped out of her throat as she jumped to the conclusions, eyes snapping closed at the thoughts racing through her head. He was Ron. This man, this hunk of a gorgeous man, was Ronald Weasley, the boy she had tormented in school, who had equally tormented her back, and constantly teased her about her appearance.

The man turned to leave against the wind, only stopping to dart his heart-stopping eyes back at her, making a tear slip out of her eyes, closing against the blackness.

She made no movement to stop him, didn't call out, nothing. Just let him go, let him fly away like the sand slipping through her fingers.

They didn't, after all had been pondered over and thought constantly about, deserve a happy ending.

_Weasley is our king…._

* * *

**Very sorry for the long wait! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, as it is a step out of the norm for me. I was thinking, as all the other had been happy endings, to stir it up a little and have a sad ending. So, if you like it and want to share you thoughts, please do!**


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